


Red Carpet Surprise

by all_the_ships_are_sailing



Category: Big Brother RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_ships_are_sailing/pseuds/all_the_ships_are_sailing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a stupid little one-shot. Mostly dialogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Carpet Surprise

“You can’t give them any indication you’re anywhere but New York. No one knows you’re going to be there except the actual Grammy’s people. I don’t want the interviewers to have too much time to think about it. Besides, they should be talking to Ari, not us anyway.”

 

“So what’s the point then?”

 

“Just us showing up together is everything. You _being there_ is everything.”

 

“I guess, but I thought we were actually going to _tell_ everyone. I thought you wanted an interview or something…I thought that’s why we were waiting…”

 

Frankie nodded and rubbed his forehead. “We discussed this, Zach. We don’t want to have to tell someone _everything_ about us. Showing up on a red carpet, together, holding hands and being cute together, is enough for now. I’m working with ET to get them to do the full story. I’m already on ET Now on Monday to talk about the Grammy’s. But I don’t want to do that until we’re sure we’re ready for everyone know everything.”

 

“I was ready for everyone to know everything on the 16th, Frankie. We’ve talked about this. You’re the one that doesn’t want to tell them…”

 

“I never tell the press about my relationships…”

 

“I know, Frankie, but this is _different_. This is important.”

 

“I know, Zach, I know. I’ve never invited anyone to a red carpet with me before…”

 

“I appreciate that, Frankie, but I don’t think you understand.”

 

“I just want to tell the world. I want them to stop questioning me constantly. I want to stop the constant hate that we both get. I want the fans that have always been there for both us to know it wasn’t for nothing. This is _different_ than any relationship you’ve been in before, Frankie. I don’t think you get that. I’m not just another notch on your belt of boys you’ve conquered. I’m in this for good, Frankie. I’m not going anywhere. I love you with everything that I am. I love everything about you. I’m in love with you and I want to shout it to the world. I am so fucking happy and I want to share it with everyone.”

 

Frankie couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “Okay, after tomorrow night you can tell anyone you’d like whatever you’d like, okay?” Zach nodded and fell silent, biting his lip nervously. Frankie was quiet for a few seconds before he looked at Zach through his eyelashes. “I know you’re different, Zach. I know what this means to you. It means everything to me, too.”

 

“It’s like I told you before, I love you more than you love me. Like it’s not even close.”

 

“I think it’s close…” Frankie mumbled with a smirk.

 

“Nowhere near.”

 

“Okay, but you’ll make the red carpet the surprise? I don’t want people all over us having a million questions. That would just be crazy for a first experience. We’re there to support my sister.”

 

“Only if you promise to introduce me to Taylor Swift.”

 

Frankie laughed. “Okay, gotta get that Zaylor selfie.”

 

“Please?” Zach begged with wide eyes.

 

“She’s sitting like two rows in front of Ari so three in front of us. We’ll try.”

 

“Really?” Zach asked, suddenly nervous.

 

“Yes. You’re going to be in a room full of popstars, Zachary. Do you understand the magnitude of this yet?”

 

“I think I’m starting to,” Zach said quietly. He fell silent for a long moment before the joyful smile returned to his face. “Thank you.”

 

“For?”

 

“Letting me come with you to the Grammy’s.”

 

Frankie smiled. “Of course, Baby. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”


End file.
